Unopened Male
by ThatBlondWiththeGlasses
Summary: Reid gets tired of analyzing letters for the case that the team is working on. Derik Morgan suggests a break and well...one thing leads to another. R & R if you would like for me to write more!


**Unopened Male**

_"Must I do everything myself?" -Derik Morgan_

**OneShot: Morgan/Reid**

**-x-**

_**Authors Note: I finally wrote something other than my usual Alec/Magnus stuff! Hooray! Haha, well this is a random onsehot story for my two favorite Criminal Mind's men. It's not much but...yeah. Review if you want me to write more! Well, enjoy!**_

Night had arrived at an agonizingly slow speed. Atleast, that was how it felt for Dr. Spencer Reid as he held yet another sealed letter in his hands. Seeing as he was the only member of the team who was familiar with graphology, he had somehow been suckered into analyzing the hundreds of unopened letters that had been sent to their victims home. Needless to say, he was absolutely itching to do almost anything other than dragging his eyes over another useless and, not to mention boring, letter.

It wasn't any help to him either that he had been paired with the infamously attractive black male, otherwise known as Derik Morgan, to go through the thick stacks of mail . No, that was defintly not something that had, at all, distracted him. Not even slightly.

On the contrary, there sat Reid, completely oblivious to the remaining stacks of letters he had to go through as a string of drool streamed out of the left corner of his gaping mouth.

_Why must you be so beautiful?_ The thought trailed through his thoughts while he watched his coworker pace back and forth impatiently with his muscular arms held clasped behind his head. Derik swiveled around to continue on his unsettled route of boredom and stopped dead in his tracks when he caught sight of Reid's incredulous facial expression.

"What the hell is up with you man?" One of his eyebrows curved upwards into an arch. Reid quickly snapped his mouth shut, shaking his head frantically in search of any kind of reply.

"Uh...um..."

"Dude, you need a break." Derik chuckled as he trudged over to the loveseat where Reid sat. He fell backwards onto it without an ounce of grace. Even so, he somehow managed to make the movement seem excruciatingly sexy.

Yet again, Reid gazed at the man with feverish brown eyes. He had to fight the desperate urge to extend his arm and feel the hard muscles that were hidden beneath the snug tee shirt that covered Morgan's shapely chest.

"Come on Reid, man. You okay?" The man beside him plucked the letter that he'd been holding from his hands.

Reid's face darkened to a shade of scarlet. Morgan's face was suprisingly close to his own. A smile pulled up at the corner's of his mouth.

"Yeah. Um. I would feel much more comfortable though if, perhaps, you were too sit over there." Reid pointed to the worn out loveseat but his stubborn coworker was already shaking his head in protest.

"Nope. Hotch made it clear that I wasn't to take my eyes off of you."

"Please?"

"No."

Reid muttered something uncharacteristically unintelligable and sank into the soft cushions of the tiny couch. Although he was looking forward at the brown wall of the breifing room, he was still hyper aware of Morgan's breath tickling the tuffs of peach hair on his flushed cheek.

_Oh God... _

Reid covered his face with his hands when he realized he'd spoken the words aloud.

"What was that?"

"N-Nothing!" Derik wasn't listening though as he was occupied with trying to pry Reid's hands from his face. When he succeeded, Reid was suprised to find Derik's face a mere centimeter from his own. He gasped and struggled to free himself from the close proximity but the older man gripped his cheeks with a pair of strong hands, dubbing him helpless.

"I'm not stupid Reid. I hope you realize that." He breathed.

"Let go of me!"

"I see the way you look at me. I see how eager you are to touch me all the time. So why is it that we've been alone in here for over three hours and you haven't made a single move?"

"What?" The frail genius was frozen beneath the heavy gaze of his coworker. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Surely, Morgan must be delirious. Either that, or he had somehow become considerably drunk within the past couple of minutes which, by the way, was inconceivably impossible.

"Must I do everything myself?" And upon those words, Derik Morgan, the man that was assumed to be more heterosexual than a majority of the national league football players, pressed his lips to Dr. Spencer Reid's.


End file.
